


Take My Whole Heart, Too

by WhatBecomesOfYou



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatBecomesOfYou/pseuds/WhatBecomesOfYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callie and Brandon have a conversation in the kitchen late one night: "I wanted a chance to talk to you - alone, because it never seems like we have the opportunity when everyone else is awake...I see how you look at me. When you don't think anyone else is looking."</p><p>M-rated for chapter seven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. transpired overnight

**Author's Note:**

> So Brandon/Callie has shaken me out of my writer's block. This was started before I saw 1.04, so not everything may make sense with what happened in that episode. If everyone likes it well enough, I may make this more than an oneshot - so let me know what you think!

It was too late to consider what she was doing a midnight snack - a 2:16 am snack would be more accurate - but as she tiptoed across the kitchen, she heard someone come up behind her, their footfalls louder than her own. "Who's there?" She spun around as she asked the question; she was always used to being on guard, and this was definitely off her guard.

"Callie, relax, it's just me," Brandon said, easing up against the counter. "I heard someone coming downstairs, and I can't sleep, so I thought -"

"So you thought you would join me and my quest to find something to eat?" She opened the fridge door, and began poking at the different containers inside; the light from inside illuminated her face as she turned to face Brandon.

"Too bad the moms haven't done the grocery shopping yet for the week. You'd be lucky to find string cheese in there."

"Yeah. Looks like it." She poked around a bit more in silence and huffed. "There really is nothing, is there?"

"Told you. There's still a little bread left at the end of the loaf, I think, unless Jesus ate it, if that interests you at all."

"Not really, but thanks." She closed the fridge door and leaned against it. "So, why did you really come down here? I doubt it was because the thought of scaring me half to death with your loud footsteps was  _that_ appealing to you, but, hey, you never know."

"I wanted a chance to talk to you - alone, because it never seems like we have the opportunity when everyone else is awake," he said, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. "You know, I see things, Callie."

"Yeah, I see things too. It's called having 20/20 vision. A lot of people see things, unless they're blind."

"No, I mean, I see how you look at me. When you don't think anyone else is looking. It's like - you're looking at me, but there's more to it than just that. Almost like you're trying to look inside me. You try and hide it for the moms, but it's there."

She felt her face redden, and she ducked her face down. Even in the darkness of the kitchen, she didn't want to make eye contact; she could make out the outline of his head in the light of the moon from outside, and she could see it turn ever-so-slightly - she thought that he was probably facing her now, or maybe he had been facing her and now he was turning away. She didn't dare make eye contact, because then, she might be compelled to tell him everything. Or at least, confirm what he seemed to already know.

"Callie. Callie."

"Yeah?" It was comforting, she supposed, that he wasn't running away from his proclamation, like she would have probably done if the tables had been turned, and that she was the one telling all this to him. She wasn't good at confrontations, she

"Don't worry about it."

"You're not freaked out by me looking at you?"

"No, because if you'd notice me, you'd see that I do it too." He walked across the small expanse of kitchen that was between them and sidled up next to her. "Talya -  _she_ noticed, at least, or else she probably wouldn't have broken up with me. Said it was obvious I wasn't into her anymore, or some shit like that."

She cocked her head. "And so -"

"Isn't it obvious?" He leaned forward and pressed her up against the refrigerator, his knee brushing against her knee as she exhaled sharply at the contact; he brushed his lips against hers, and she opened her mouth to him, and she pulled him closer to her, her arm snaked around his hips.

It wasn't her first kiss.

Far from it, actually, if she's honest. But this was one of the - if not  _the_  - first times when she doesn't feel like anything was expected out of her because of it, or that she'll wake up tomorrow with a heady feeling of regret and guilt. Because this - this kiss - was what they had slowly been building toward since the first time they saw each other. Every stolen glance, every passed moment between them, leading up to the here and the now.

And  _oh_ , was he a good kisser. If she was going to rank all the boys she'd ever kissed, he'd be at the top of the list. Not even a contest, not considering some of the losers who had walked in and out of her life, but she knew that unlike those losers - Brandon wouldn't be walking out of her life so easily. He was just down the hall from her, after all, and at least for now, at least until - she couldn't bear to think about that indeterminate date in the future, especially not when his lips were doing that little massage thing against hers, and she let out an embarrassing little squeak of contentment.

She never knew that she  _squeaked_. Of all the things - look at the things he did to her! She was always the girl who had to be tough, to survive in the world out there; and now, she was letting down her walls, slowly but surely. And she  _squeaked._  She didn't even know that was physically possible for her to do.

She laughed. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do, laugh, and it meant that she was probably smiling against his kiss, and oh, the vibrations of it all felt so pleasing to her. Brandon pulled back from the kiss and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhh," he said, "we don't want anyone to hear, remember?"

She'd almost forgotten that they were sneaking around, that this wasn't what the routine should be like. They were up at almost three in the morning, making out in the kitchen; in just a few hours, everyone would be down here eating their toast and eggs like nothing out of place had transpired overnight. She kissed the tip of his finger. "Right, of course," she said. "Because we shouldn't be doing this."

"Even though we are," he said, and she smiled at him. Even if he couldn't see it, she knew that he would know she did; that was what he had said, wasn't it?

She let her face fall into the crook of his neck, and she breathed against his shirt, making muffled noises of agreement as she did so. She could get used to this feeling, she knew that much for sure. Kissing him, breathing in his scent, being around him, this was a feeling that she was enjoying. And if she was enjoying it, she was  _sure_  he was too.

"We should probably get back to bed before Mariana realizes that you're missing," Brandon said, finally, but he sounded almost reluctant, almost as if he didn't want her to go. They could just stay frozen in that moment until sunrise. But she knew as well as he did - "and we can't tell the moms, you know that, right?"

She nodded against his shoulder. "Duh, I know." Not like she would have told them even if he wouldn't have said anything, but his question was a dash of cold water to the face, of the reality of their situation.

"Because they'd probably -" And he trailed off, and she could finish the end of that sentence with all of the horrible fates that could arise for them, should they be caught: you knew the situation was dire when the  _best_  case scenario was only her and Jude being kicked out of a place that had quickly become their home. "Let's not think about that now."

"Too late," she murmured, as she tentatively pressed a small kiss against the collar of his shirt. He shuddered at the motion and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. "But we really should go - you're right -"

"This wasn't an one-time thing, Callie. I'm not going to kiss you and then never speak to you again."

"That would be extremely hard to explain to the moms, why you stopped talking to me all of a sudden. I don't think spontaneous Callie-induced muteness would be a good explanation -"

"What about muteness induced by kissing you?" he asked, kissing her again, tracing his fingers down the side of her face as he melded his lips with her own one more time. She felt a warming sensation where his fingers traced; each stroke was like a tiny brush of fire against her skin. "Is that good enough for you?" he whispered against her lips.

" _Yes_ ," she said, almost more as a hiss than a simple statement. She didn't want to go back to her bed and be alone, not after all this had transpired, but she knew that there would be more questions raised than answered if they weren't in their expected places come morning. She reluctantly stepped out from behind his embrace, but still held onto his hand as she did so.

"I'll go up first," he said, "and you can follow in a couple of minutes, okay?"

"Okay," she said, and as he walked away, she leaned back against the fridge and sighed, pressing her fingers to her lips. That was the last thing she had been expecting to happen tonight, but it wasn't unwelcome in the least.

And she was still hungry, she'd almost forgotten about that, given everything that had transpired since she'd come downstairs. She pried open the loaf of bread and snatched the first slice that rested there, chewing softly as she heard his footsteps move overhead. She'd wait for a few more and then go up.

His words floated in the back of her mind, and she felt a small smile creep to her face as she remembered them: " _This wasn't an one-time thing_." So would there be more kitchen sneak attacks in the future, or would he continue to come up with new and inventive ways to win her over behind everyone else's backs? It wasn't like it would be very hard, considering he already had a running start on the whole process.

She suddenly couldn't wait for tomorrow - or the days after - to come.


	2. rip the moments

The problem, Callie thought, of being in a sorta-relationship with her foster brother and having to sneak around behind everyone else's back was that there was a  _serious_  cramp on the amount of alone time they got to spend together. It wasn't like they were a normal teenage couple that could go out to the ice cream shop - or wherever it was that couples went on dates. It wasn't like she was an expert on normal teenage dating situations or anything.

Likely, word would get back to one of the moms, and the whole thing would be over before it even began. And that didn't just go for her and Brandon's relationship, either; it went for the whole living arrangement situation as well. She knew that, and he knew that, so at least they were on the same page.

She flopped down on her bed after school one afternoon, closing the bedroom door behind her - it had been six days, thirteen hours and thirty-seven minutes since Brandon and her had kissed in the kitchen. Give or take a few minutes or so, because who was counting? And in that nearly-week-long period, they could not find a single moment to be alone together for more than about two seconds before Jude or Mariana or someone walked in on them.

They'd have to rip the moments from their days - and nights, she supposed - and make them count. Maybe she would have to make more late-night trips to the kitchen. Develop a midnight sweet tooth. Inform him of this fact, and maybe they could share in an indulgence of Oreos and lazy kisses by the kitchen counter. Take their time, without fear of anyone catching them in the act, unless they got careless. Which they never would.

She heard a knock at the door. "Who's there," she mumbled into her pillow. "Go 'way."

"It's me," Brandon said. "Do you still want me to go away?"

"No, you can come in. I thought you were Mariana for a second."

"No, Mariana would have just opened the door, flown right in with a shopping bag on each arm, with Lexi in tow, and you wouldn't have been able to say two words about it even if you wanted to." Brandon closed the door and sat down next to her on the bed. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder blade. "What's going on? You seemed a little down at school today."

"Oh, nothing. Just English class - writing those journals is hard." It wasn't like she could admit to him that part of it was because she felt like she had barely seen him, although it would be true; she didn't want to seem like she was a lovesick puppy chasing after a guy. Even if the guy could give chase right back. And it  _was_  true about the journals, at least.

"Because you don't have anything you want to write about? I thought he said that no one would see those journals except for you."

_And Talya_ , she mentally added, her bitterness still shining through, despite the fact that she knew Talya would never, ever be a threat to her journal entries again. "No, because every prompt he gives us gives me a thousand things I  _could_  write about, and I'm not a writer. I could write pages about the things in my life that I feel guilt about, or regret, or something that I miss. But I don't  _want_  to. It's all too much to deal with."

"So channel all of those emotions you just mentioned - and the ones you left out - into the guitar I gave you. Let out your frustrations on those strings. I promise you, they can take it," he said.

"You always know just what to say to make me feel better, don't you?" she asked, turning over and smiling up at him. It was a small smile, but it was there, shining through. "And I guess it also kind of sucks that we don't really get to spend much time alone." There it was, the other half of her bad mood. Guess she could be honest with him after all.

"I know," he said, a lopsided frown on his face, "I wish I could kiss you sometimes, like when we're sitting in the kitchen together eating dinner, and you laugh at something Jude says, and you get this crinkle at the corner of your eyes from smiling, and it makes me want to kiss you and to bring that smile up by myself. But I know that I can't, and then the moment's gone."

"You make me smile," she said with a laugh, "See? I'm smiling right now." She grinned, and laughed even louder, burying her face into his chest in an attempt to stifle the laughter. She didn't know where Mariana was - probably out somewhere with Lexi, if she wasn't at home - but she didn't want to attract any attention to them if she could help it. Even if it was the middle of the day.

He crooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to face his. "Never hide that beautiful smile of yours from me again, okay?" he whispered, lifting her face to his and kissing her softly. "Because I like seeing you smile."

"O- _okay_ ," she said, her voice barely a wisp of air as she spoke.

Tucking a lock of her hair back behind her ear, he pressed another kiss to her forehead, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. "How long do you think it'll be before Mariana gets back and wants me out of her room?" he asked, tapping his fingers mindlessly against her spine, almost as if she was a piano keyboard and he was trying to play her, to coax a melody of contented sighs out of her mouth with only his touch.

It might just work, too, if he kept this up for much longer.

"Do we  _really_  have to think about her right now? It's the first time we've been alone in almost a week," she said, pursing her lips together in a pout. "She'll be back soon enough."

"Fair." And his lips were on hers again, almost frantic in the intensity; there was nothing quiet or still about his kisses, like she would have originally thought. There was always an urgency underlying it all. It was almost like he was making up for all their lost time over the past week. Every time he'd wanted to reach across the kitchen table and kiss her while she was smiling, or maybe in passing in the hallways at school, like the other couples did.

As they broke apart, tiny little kisses making the separation more bearable, they panted slightly, catching their breaths. "You're good," Callie said. "Not to build your ego up, or anything."

"Thanks. Not that it needed to be built up, or anything," he said, smiling at her. "You are too."She ducked her head down at his words of praise; the faint scarlet tinges of a blush colored her face. "No, Callie, don't be ashamed," he continued, lifting her face to meet his, as he stared into her eyes. "You don't have to feel shame or guilt or regret - or any of those other emotions that we write about for English - when we're together like this. Just happiness and pride."

"Those are things I'm not used to feeling," she said, "but I guess I'll be getting used to it, the longer I'm here - the longer I'm with you."

"If I have anything to say about it, you will. And I think I do, if this was any indication."

"I think you do too," she said, reaching up for another kiss. As she did so, she heard the rush of feet on the floorboards outside. "I think I hear someone coming," she said, grabbing her textbook off the nightstand next to her. "You should probably go."

"Okay," he said, even though it was clear from his voice that it was a reluctant agreement. "You work on that algebra homework and tell me if you have any problem with quadratic equations, okay? I know a trick if you need help."

"Will do. Oh, and Brandon?"

"Yeah?" He turned back to face her.

"I think I might be developing a midnight sweet tooth. I find myself craving cookies when I'm trying to sleep."

"Wha -  _oh_." The meaning of her statement dawned on him. "You know what? I think I am too." He nodded briskly.

"Think you are  _what_?" Mariana said, standing in the now-open doorframe, her hands folded over her chest. She tapped her foot, and it was almost menacing in its intent. "Brandon! What are you doing in my room? Get out."

"I was telling Callie a trick about quadratic equations for our algebra homework. And we were talking about dinner, and I was telling her that I wanted pizza for dinner too."

Callie nodded. "Yeah, I was telling him that I had a  _really_  bad craving for pepperoni. Haven't had it in a long time."

"Too bad, it's hamburger night," Mariana said, throwing her backpack down on the bed and sitting down next to it. "You might be able to convince them for this weekend, though, if you do the dishes."

"Isn't it  _your_  week to do the dishes?" Callie asked.

"Yeah, but maybe you'd get what you want for dinner if you do a few extra chores around here. Like mine." She batted her eyelashes at Callie. " _Please_? I always get icky shriveled hands when I have to do the dishes. It looks like something out of one of those horror movies Jesus likes, and it takes  _forever_ to get them back the way they should be."

"We'll see," Callie said, shutting her algebra textbook. "Well, it's obvious that quadratic equations aren't going to get any work done right now, so! I'm going to go downstairs and see what Jude's up to."

"And I'm going to try to get some homework done before dinner," Brandon said. "See ya at dinner, you two."

Both Callie and Brandon walked out to the hallway together, and shut the door behind them as they did. They stood there at the landing, looking at each other. "You could always come back to my room, you know," Brandon said, in a hushed whisper, "I don't think anyone would bother us there. History can wait, anyway; it's been over for a long time anyway, and it's not changing before dinner."

"I think I do want to see what Jude's up to, though," she said, in a matched whisper, "but I'll keep that in mind." She squeezed his hand. "Maybe after dinner, you can teach me a few tricks that aren't in those textbooks of ours?"

"Maybe I can." He squeezed her hand back. "Have fun with Jude."

"Have fun with the Civil War." She'd rather spend the time with him, but she didn't want the moms - or anyone, but  _especially_ the moms - to get suspicious. They had to still appear normal, for all intents and purposes, to everyone but each other.

"You know it." Which clearly meant he wouldn't. They reluctantly broke their grasp apart, and they smiled at each other as Callie descended the stairs, and he walked toward his room.

She'd never felt like this before. And apparently, she was going to have to get used to it - which was a thought she liked very,  _very_  much.


	3. to feel wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a challenge to myself to see if I could write a chapter of this fic without them kissing, but turned into, as I described to a friend, "THESE TWO HAVE A MIND OF THEIR OWN. THEY JUST WANT TO MAKE OUT OKAY." 
> 
> Dedicated to C, the aforementioned friend, for putting up with my Brandon/Callie feelings tonight, even though he doesn't watch The Fosters. You are a true friend.

Callie crept downstairs late the next night, after almost everyone else was fast asleep - at least, she hoped that a certain person was still awake. She was careful not to hit any of the creaky floorboards, and she knew the trick with turning the doorknob as to not startle Mariana when she left. The kinds of things she picked up living in different foster homes over the years. She could be as silent as a fox when she needed to be.

She knew there was a half-eaten package of Oreos hidden behind the butcher block. She knew it was there because she had been the one to slip it there in the hubbub after dinner earlier that evening, in preparation for this. The only question was - could she guarantee that Brandon picked up on her cues from the day before?

Her question was answered by her seeing a shadow standing in the kitchen, leaning against the center table. "Brandon?" she asked, her voice a hushed whisper.

"You said you had a midnight sweet tooth. I came down here to see if that was really true."

"You remembered."

" _Of course_  I remembered. I have a really good memory - so I think. At least, good enough to remember the important things, like what you tell me." He walked closer to her. "And, so, is there something that can satisfy this sweet tooth of yours, or was this a wasted trip?"

_It would never be a wasted trip, as long as the two of us were alone_ , she thought, pursing her lips into a thin smile. "Yeah, I hid the rest of the Oreos after dinner, so that Jude wouldn't eat them all before we got a chance to. You know, one of our old foster mothers used to call him the Cookie Monster. She'd bake a sheet of cookies for all of us to share, and he'd snatch them all before they'd even cooled." She deftly pulled the container from its hiding place and set it on the counter. "So I don't trust him around anything remotely related to cookies."

"How long ago was that foster home?" He took two cookies out from the wrapper and handed one to her.

"Thanks," she said. "It was - oh, not the last one in San Ysidro, of course, or the other one down there - and we bounced around between a few places in Chula Vista and National City for a while - and some that I know I'm forgetting - I  _think_  she was the time we lived in City Heights for a few months. Second or third foster home. It's kind of hard to remember by now."

"Lots of foster homes, I take it." He chewed his cookie thoughtfully. "That had to be rough."

"Yeah, and this is one of the longer ones - and I've only been here, what, three months?"

"Something like that, yeah. Doesn't feel like it's been that long."

"For me to have a place to call home for more than a month or two at a time, it feels like an eternity." The sounds of their chewing and breathing were the only sounds for a minute or two, before she cleared her throat. "And I think, with that, I'll take another cookie."

" _Now_  who's the Cookie Monster?" Brandon said, laughing as he handed her another Oreo. "It's sometimes easy to forget that your life didn't start the moment you walked through that door for the first time. That there was a life of yours pre-us."

"I wish it had, sometimes." Her life hadn't been easy - never knowing her father, losing her mother when she was ten, being bounced from one foster home to the next since then. She'd seen more things in her sixteen years than some people saw in an entire lifetime, and not all of them were pleasant by any means. To start her life again at sixteen would be to erase so much unpleasantness. "There's so much love here - it's nice. To feel wanted."

"The moms really are good at that," he said. "You know that this is your home, now."

"I meant you too." She dropped her hand against the counter and brushed the side of her hand against his. "You've done a lot to make this place feel more welcoming to us. Me. Us."

" _Especially_  you." He leaned his side into her and situated his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Jude's a good kid, but he's no you."

"I sure hope not." Callie replied, resting her head against his shoulder and sighing contentedly. "I wouldn't want to be jealous of my own _brother_."

"There's nothing to be jealous of, though. I only want you, Callie," he said, "No one else. Not Talya, not Mariana, not any of the other girls at school. You." He rubbed smaller and smaller circles inside the small of her back and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

"Me too. Not Wyatt, nor anyone else from my past, just you." If she could freeze the moment just as it was - the two of them leaned into a side-embrace, the quietness of the house a blessed counterpoint to the chaos during the day - it would be just about perfect. The only way it would be more perfect was if - she tilted her head up and kissed his cheek. There.  _Now_  it was perfect.

He shifted slightly, turning her to face him, and brushed aside the faintest of Oreo crumbs from the side of her mouth, before kissing her softly. His lips felt so soft and perfect against hers, and she wrapped her arm around his neck, opening her mouth to his.

She was wrong before. This was perfect. The two of them, intertwined in a shallow embrace, her body pressed against his.  _This_  was what she wanted.

As they separated, she looked up at him; she wished that she could see into his eyes right now, but the darkness was too dark. She knew, however, from instinct alone, that he was looking right back at her. Thinking that he wanted to see her face, too.

It was too bad that most of their time alone had to take place in the dark like this, but it was too risky to do anything upstairs - even with him having his own room. The chances of someone overhearing and the whole thing being blown to shreds would be far too high. She knew, though, that his eyes would be doing that thing where it almost seemed like they would pop out of their head if he kept looking at her long enough, but that he wouldn't be able to do anything  _but_  look at her.

"We should come up with some sort of code. For when we're around the family," he said. "Because it's hard for me to keep my hands off you." As if to prove his point, he gently glided his hand up the curve of her side.

"I'm not going to play footsie with you, if that's what you mean," she said, "because that would get too obvious too fast. You'd laugh, and then I wouldn't be able to help myself, and the moms would catch on -"

"No, I meant like, I don't know, linking our index fingers together and squeezing. Something silent like that."

She tilted her head. "I don't know. Let's try it." She extended her index finger, and she felt his brush against hers; the two fingers locked together in a squeeze. His squeeze was as strong as his hugs were. It was almost reassuring, in a way. "Yeah. I like that."

"Yeah? I do too." He kissed her again, and again, and again, almost as if he didn't want to stop. Not that she was protesting the thought of that - not at all. She lost herself in the litany of his lips and the movement of his muscles under her touch. God, he really was an amazing kisser. Not like she expected anything less. It was  _Brandon Foster_ , after all - she didn't think that he ever did anything less than halfway, and probably saw everything through to completion. "Next time you want to say something to me, and they're around -"

"Got it." It was almost like they had a secret language that only the two of them could understand, a language of motion and movement under the cover of night.

From somewhere above them, a floorboard creaked. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. "Is that our cue?"

"I think it is," she said, her voice dropping back down to the whisper it had started the night as. She didn't want it to end. She never did. Their moments were much too fleeting and fast for her taste.

"Good night, Callie," he said, kissing her one last time, as soft and tender as always. "Ladies first?"

"G'night," she murmured, returning his kiss, and carefully making her way toward the front of the house. "You coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be up in a few," he said. "Just - just want to make sure that you get upstairs first, in case someone says something."

She walked up the stairs, but it barely felt like walking. It felt more like she was floating just a couple of inches above the floor as she glided along, grasping the handrail as she did so.

_Was this - maybe, very possibly, just a little bit - what love felt like?_


	4. Chapter 4

"You sure they'll be okay with this?"

"We're teenagers who live in San Diego. Part of our God-given birthright is to live at the beach as many days a year as possible," Brandon said. "Besides, we'll be back long before curfew."

"I know - it's just -"

"Callie, relax. You worry way too much. Look, if it bothers you, I won't hold your hand, and I  _definitely_ won't buy you ice cream at the pier." He offered her an easy grin.

The corners of her lips turned up into a smile. It was impossible not to smile when he was smiling at her like that; it turned her stomach to mush in the most indescribable of ways. "Let's just get far away from the school first," she said. "I don't want to think about anything related to that place right now. Not even your mom - sorry."

"No offense taken. I told her that I was going to be out with friends after school anyway, so they shouldn't expect us back for a while."

"Expect  _you_  back, maybe. But me?"

"You tagged along. We went to the beach. They don't have to know that you were the only friend I was with," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's cool. I wouldn't do anything to risk you living with us. Promise."

"Do you always make a habit of lying to the moms, or is it just since I came along that things changed? Because I always thought you were such a good guy."

"We've always had a pretty open relationship, but we also do a lot of, you know, 'what you don't know can't hurt you' things," he said. "I mean - when Talya and I were together, they did a lot for us, but there were things about our relationship that they didn't know. Because it wasn't something they needed to know."

"Yeah, I know they knew about you and Talya," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Sorry, I just - I don't like remembering that you two were ever together. Especially not - Christ, Brandon, the  _condoms_  -" There were things she knew about all of her foster siblings: names, ages, what they looked like, their favorite food. Brandon, 16, shaggy brown hair that flopped ever-so-perfectly over his face, with the most soulful eyes and the most kissable lips she had ever seen, and his favorite food was cheeseburgers with extra cheese and a dollop of ketchup. But she could safely say that Brandon was the first foster sibling she'd ever had an idea of a  _sexual history_  on, of all things.

(Then again, when the average age of her previous foster siblings was  _ten_...)

"Sorry that you had to know about that," he said, putting his hand inside hers and squeezing it gently. "I promise you, though - the next time, it'll be with you."

"What - Who says I'd  _ever_ have sex with you?" Her laugh was far too awkward and out of place to be anything but a cover. The thought of having sex with him - she was oh-so-glad that he was walking beside her to not see how hard she was blushing at the thought. "I mean -"

"Well, uh, I was thinking that eventually, you know, if everything went well, that maybe, one day, you and I -"

"We'll see."  _Smooth, Callie_ , she thought,  _scare the guy off before you even get things going with him_.  _Even if he can't stop stammering._  "So - uh - we've been walking along the beach for a while now -" She looked around. Definitely a beach-like atmosphere here, with little souvenir shops and cafes on the side of the sidewalk. She swerved to the side to avoid hitting a rack of postcards, bumping into Brandon's side.  _Double smooth._  She glanced up at him and smiled. At least he didn't seem to be upset. "When are we going to bury our feet in the sand?"

"Yeah, there's a special place I want to show you. Just a little further ahead," he said. "When my mom was single, before she met Lena, and it was just the two of us, she'd take me here."

"How old were you when they met?"

"Like seven, I think? She was one of the other teachers at the school I attended at the time. They met and fell in love at a PTA meeting, who knew."

"And so it was pretty instant? They just knew?"

"You'd have to ask them, but, yeah, I think so. And Lena's pretty cool, so I was cool with it. Having two moms is kind of awesome. And I still see my dad, too, of course. Best of both worlds."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, they've been really great to Jude and me. That's why I don't want to screw this all up."

"Don't worry about it." They moved off of the sidewalk and onto the sand, his hand still enclosing hers, and she gasped slightly as she felt her weight shift into the sand. "You've got me. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Or Jude, for that matter. Trust me."

"I - I do." It took more for her to say those two words than it did to kiss him, or to run off to the beach with him, or do all the running around behind other people's backs they had been doing. To trust in her world was a dangerous prospect. To trust meant to give herself over completely to another person, and that was something she had never been able to successfully do. Except for Jude, but he was her brother. He kind of had an exemption in the process. "I do trust you."

"Good," he said. "We're here." They were standing under the boardwalk, where the waves lapped into a small dip in the sand and rocks, creating a small pool. "Sometimes, when the tide's just right, there's all these little sea creatures in there." He looked down. "Although - not right now, I guess."

"This is cool anyway, thanks for showing me," she said, bending down on her hands and knees to examine it closer. The two of them sat in silence; she cast a glance over to him now and then, and watched as he crept his hand along the sand, moving closer to her leg. "You can put my hand on my leg. I'm not going to say no."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I said I trust you, remember?"

"I know. I like hearing you say it, though. Makes me feel good."

"I'd scream it at the top of my lungs." She stood up and brushed sand off her legs, and cupped her hands around her mouth, and began to shout, " _I trust Brandon Foster!_ " A distant seagull's caw was the only reply. She laughed and sat back down. "Every time I say it, I become more convinced that it's true." She could trust him, trust that this wasn't leading them down a road to ruin, more than she trusted anyone in her life. Besides Jude, but again, little brother exemption trumped all.

"It's music to my ears," he said, kissing her softly. "It's nice to be here, just us."

"So there's an  _us_  now?"

"Well, I don't go kissing just anyone, Callie. I kind of thought you were my girlfriend."

"And I kind of thought you were my boyfriend." She tilted her head, pressed her index finger to her lips and looked intently at him. From every angle, he was just as cute as in the others, but it was nice to get a different perspective on the matter every now and then.

"I think if we both think it's true, we're beyond 'kind of,'" he said, kissing her again. His mouth moved against hers, and her tongue darted out to dance along the edge of his lip. He laid her against the sand and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She closed her eyes and hooked her foot around his calf. "And you, Callie, are kind of perfect," he whispered against her lips as he moved back. He embraced her still, his arms wrapped around her sides, holding her against him.

"You are kind of the best thing that's happened to me in a  _really_  long time," she replied, her eyes fluttering open. "Do we have to go back?"

"Yeah, if we don't want the moms to catch us - but we don't have to leave yet. We still have time," he said. "We can still enjoy the beach for a while."

They walked out from under the boardwalk, hand-in-hand, and found a new place to sit, down by where the waves crashed against the sand, soaking it through. They sat there in contented silence, embracing each other, and occasionally sharing lazy kisses. Brandon traced his finger in the sand. "CJ + BF = LOVE" he wrote in the wet sand, drawing a loopy heart around it. "See? Now even the beach knows about us."

"The waves will wash it away, though."

"And when they do, I'll write it again. And again."

"You really know the right things to say, don't you?"

"I guess I do," he said, "Blame the moms. C'mon, let's get ice cream and then I guess we should head back. I have a sudden craving for cookies and cream in a cone."

"Funny, I had you pegged as more of a rocky road guy," she said with a laugh, as they walked away from the sandy heart. The waves lapped at the edges of Brandon's heart, but did not wash it away until they were out of sight; a seagull cawed somewhere overhead.

She had new reasons to love the beach, after today.

- _to be continued_ -


	5. Chapter 5

They practically had this whole sneaking around thing down to an art form.

It was kind of fun, to see how long they could get away with it; carrying on a relationship underneath everyone's noses. It made the thrill of each moment together count all that much more meaningful, when they knew it could be taken away from them at any moment.

Jesus nodded at Brandon as he walked out the door, probably on his way to meet Lexi at the park. It was a silent, simple nod of brotherhood, a shared connection. Brandon wasn't supposed to know about Lexi, but he did, and there were things that Jesus was not to know about either. Namely, the precise nature of his relationship with Callie.

Maybe Jesus knew. Maybe he didn't. Maybe he suspected. Maybe he didn't. Jesus was a pretty perceptive guy, for all of his faults.

What Brandon  _did_  know: Callie and him were alone in the house, for once. Okay, so Jude was technically right upstairs, but he was working on homework. And no one else was going to be home for a really long time. Mariana was with friends, Jesus was with Lexi, and the moms - well, he wasn't sure where they were, exactly. Probably still at work, both of them.

"Callie?" he called out tentatively.

"Yeah? I'm in here." She popped her head out from around the corner in the living room. "What's up?"

"Jesus left."

"I can hear the door close just as well as you can see it," she said, as she rested her hand on the wall. "But we're still not alone - Jude's upstairs - he could come down at any moment -"

"I won't let us get caught," he said, walking over to her and kissing her softly on her cheek. "I promised you that, remember?"

" _Right_ , and Brandon Foster doesn't break his promises."

"Not when he can help it, at least. Not to pretty girls like you." Another soft, small kiss, pressed to the corner of her lips. "And if we go upstairs - we can go to my room, shut the door -"

"And put out a giant red flag for the next person to come home." The one thing about living in a house with four other kids - the concept of privacy was all but forgotten, basically a foreign concept. "Maybe we shouldn't -" As soon as she said it, she regretted it; she  _hated_  not being able to spend the time with him like she wanted, and

"That's okay," he said. "I don't want to -"

"Let's go to my room instead," she said, grabbing his hand with fervor and squeezing it. "Mariana shouldn't be home for a while, if she's out with her friends."

"So, what makes your room so much better than mine?" He squeezed her hand back and gave her a small smile. "Not that I don't like the sudden change of mind, but Mariana could come home, and we'd be busted."

"Because it's less suspicious for you to be in my room than it is for me to be in yours."

"I'm not quite sure how the logic works there."

"It's your house, you can be wherever you want to be. I'm still a guest here, so I should stay in the places that I'm allowed in."

"Callie, this is your house too," he said, tipping his finger under her chin and tilting her face up toward his. "And I'm  _inviting_  you to my room. It's not like you're going in there unannounced just to catch me shirtless."

"Is that an invitation?" she asked, raising one eyebrow and shuffling her feet closer to him. She loved being in the radiation of his body heat.

"If it is, you'll be the first to know," he said. "Now, are we going to do this or not?"

"Lead the way."

* * *

They laid on his bed, her curled into his side; she tilted her head up and he leaned his head down so that they met halfway. She brushed her hand along the side of his stomach as they traded kisses of varying intensities; some were hot and fiery and left her feeling mushy and warm inside, while others were softer, more tender, more delicate. All were reciprocated in kind to each other. "Callie, oh, Callie -" he murmured against her open lips.

"Yeah?" She could never get tired of hearing him say her name, especially when it was as if he was breathing it into her mouth like that.

"Hi." He pulled back away from her and rested his forehead against hers; he gently rubbed the tip of his nose against hers and ran his palm through the back of her hair. "You're beautiful." The utmost sincerity shone in his eyes, and she couldn't help but blush a little.

"Hi yourself," she said, staring into his eyes and returning the nose rub. She could get lost in his eyes, she really could. And his lips, and his arms, and his - well,  _everything_  might be a more succinct way to put it.

At that moment, she heard her own name being called out - much louder, and while the voice was still unmistakably male, it wasn't Brandon's - it was Jude's, "Callie!  _Callie_!" She heard footsteps racing through the hallway, and she buried her face in Brandon's chest.

"Hide me," she said, with a groan. "I don't want our perfect moment to be spoiled by Jude."

"Get down on the floor, on the other side of the bed. I'll deflect him if he comes in."

She groaned again and turned on her side, to prepare to dive. But before she had a chance to dive on the floor, Jude threw the door to Brandon's room open. "Callie!" he said, before taking a step back. "What - what are you two doing?"

"Jude - it's not what it looks like -" Callie said. "Brandon and I -"

"I thought you said never again after Liam. Do you want us to be kicked out of the house?" He crossed his arms over his chest, and gave the couple a defiant glare. "Do you want us to have to find a new foster home? Because I. Like. It. Here."

"I do too, baby," she said, sitting up and extending her arms for a hug. "Brandon and I - we've been really careful about this."

"How - how long has it been going on?" He slid into her arms for the hug, tucking his legs underneath him, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, pressing tiny little kisses to the top of his head.

She looked over at Brandon, and silently willed him not to speak. This was a conversation she knew she had to have eventually; she had just been hoping to hold off on it until things were more stable, more clear as to what the future held. And it was one she really needed to have with Jude by herself. "About a month or so," she said.

"Does anyone else know about you two? Mariana, Jesus?"

She shook her head, and ruffled her nose in the fine strands of his hair. "No one else, baby, nobody but you."

Brandon chimed in. "I promised your sister - Callie - that I wouldn't do anything to endanger the two of you being here. And I still promise that. You mean too much to me, little bro.  _She_  means too much to me." He patted his shoulder.

"Do you love her?"

Brandon cocked his head and gazed at Callie. "I think I do, yeah."

Callie dropped her right hand down to the comforter and inched it blindly over toward Brandon's. He took her hand in his and locked their index fingers together - squeezing once, twice, three times - almost as if to silently say, "I love you."  _Did Brandon just say that he thought that he loved her?_   _Did she hear him right?_  "Brandon -"

"I was waiting for the right time to tell you. And this seems as good of time as any," he said, "if I have to prove my intentions to your younger brother are good, then he may as well know what they are."

"Just - just promise me you won't hurt her, okay?" Jude asked, sticking his lip out in a tiny little pout. "Because I do like it here, and I don't want to leave."

"Promise, little man. Callie is safe with me," Brandon said, patting his shoulder again, almost mindlessly, out of rote habit. "Can just anyone get in on this hug, or is this a Jacob family only thing?"

"I think we can make an exception for Brandon, can't we?" Callie asked, and Jude nodded happily, and Brandon wrapped his arms around Callie and Jude both. She sank into the embrace. Her two favorite guys in the world, right here with her. It couldn't get much better than this.

As they broke apart from the hug, Callie still held tightly to Jude. "So, what did you want?"

"I wanted you to come check my homework, make sure that I'm doing it right."

"I'll come in in a bit, okay? I want to talk to Brandon a little bit."

"You mean kiss him."

"That's none of your business, but I really just want to ask him something. You go back to your room. I'll be there shortly." She paused for a minute, "and remember, this stays between the three of us."

"Duh." He got up from the bed and bounded out of the room, back down the hallway to his room.

After he left, she turned back to Brandon, "so, you think you love me," she said. Even repeating his words back to him left the feeling of something fluttering askew in her stomach.

"I know I do, I just wanted you to hear the confirmation when he wasn't here. I love you, Callie," he said, kissing her. "I really do." It was so much easier for him to give his heart away to her than it was for her to reciprocate the action; she'd been steeled through years of heartache and abuse to not allow herself to attach herself too deeply to anyone. Besides Jude. But it felt like the closest thing to love that she had ever felt. "Callie?"

"Yeah? Sorry, deep in thought." She ducked her head and hid it in his shoulder. She wanted to avoid the confrontation that she was afraid was brewing in the not-too-distant future.

"Hopefully those are thoughts of me."

"You know they are."

"I'm not going to make you say it back to me, if that's what you're thinking about," he said, "because I know that it took a lot for you to tell me you trust me, on the beach last week. That's a lot right there."

"I know." God, he made it so easy to fall in what-could-kind-of-almost-maybe-if-she-was-braver- and-less-damaged-be-considered- _love_  with him. "I trust you."

"And that's enough for me. You have my love, I have your trust."

She nodded, rubbing her cheek along the fabric of his t-shirt. "I like the sound of that."

"Now, you go help Jude with his long division or whatever it is that he needs you to look over," he said, "and I'll be right here for when you're done, okay?"

"Okay," she said, offering him a smile. "Thank you, Brandon."

"Anytime, Callie."

As she walked out of Brandon's room and down the hall to Jude's, she marveled at what had just transpired. For once, things seemed to be going right, even if it wasn't quite the state secret it had been just a few hours before. She trusted Jude, but no one else could know. No one.

One wrong move, and everything could come tumbling down. For all three of them. And she was a protector: she would protect those she loved with her life, if it came down to it, and she didn't want either of her boys to be hurt because of her actions.

- _to be continued_ -


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with Liam, so if you are sensitive to the implications of what the Liam storyline holds, proceed with caution.

"So, Callie, how was your day at school?" Stef asked, as Jesus passed the salad bowl over to her. "Learn anything interesting?"

Callie took the bowl and grabbed a scoop of lettuce forcefully with the tongs. "It was okay. Not really. Just...a regular day of school."

"Surely  _something_  interesting had to have happened," Stef said.

"Uh..." She thought back on her day, and how she had spied Brandon out of the corner of her eye every so often, and how he had smiled at her and made her insides melt. How he made her feel, without him even trying. That hard, at least. With him around her at school like he was, it was kind of hard to worry about things like classic American literature or algebraic equations, or whatever else her classes could throw at her. "No, not really, no."

"Mariana? How about you?" And she passed the salad bowl onto Brandon.

Thank God the focus was off of her. As Mariana talked on and on about the really young, really cute substitute teacher she'd had in her science class, she shifted in her seat and smiled over at Brandon.

He nudged his foot next to hers and smiled back, dropping his hand to brush against hers. He interlocked their index fingers and squeezed gently -  _once, twice_  - and she squeezed back -  _once, twice_. It felt good to have a silent reassurance from him, and she was sure that he felt the same way. Probably.

After dinner was over, they cleared aside the dishes, as Jesus prepared to wash them. Brandon walked next to her, and whispered, his breath warm against her ear, "I'll be in my room."

" _Later_ ," she mouthed to him.

He nodded, and walked on by her; Callie busied herself with wiping down the tabletop of all the crumbs. "Who wants to play Cranium?" Stef asked, holding up the box with a grin. "Get Brandon down here, he'll want to play."

Guess a little alone time with him would have to wait.

* * *

Later that night, Callie slipped down the hall after everyone else had fallen asleep. The family game of Cranium - complete with her own horrendous attempt at humming "We Will Rock You" and Jesus attempting to mime an Olympic gymnast on the balance beam - had worn just about everyone out. Except for her.

And, she was guessing by the dim, orange-ish light that still shone at the end of the hall, Brandon too.

She only just had to tap lightly the one time before he opened the door and drew her into his arms. "I was waiting for you," he said, pressing a tiny, muffled kiss into her hair as he shut the door behind her.

It was amazing how at ease he made her feel. One touch from him and she leaned into it, like a magnet meeting a magnetic force. She couldn't resist him. Not that she wanted to, though. "I was waiting until I knew Mariana was asleep," she said, looking up at him thoughtfully.

"So, in other words, when she stopped talking."

"Something like that, yeah," she said. "It was hard waiting."

"Tell me about it," he replied, still holding her tightly against him as he gently shifted them toward his bed. "I wasn't sure if you were still going to come."

"I told you I would," she said. "Ask Jude. I don't break my promises."

"I know you don't." He pressed two kisses to the tip of her hairline, as the two sat down on his bed. "I don't have to ask anyone."

For what was once seemingly forbidden territory, she knew now that here, this place, was her sanctuary. They were beginning to take a few more risks, in tandem lockstep with each other. Maybe because they were becoming more comfortable together. She knew that she could never fall asleep in this bed, no matter how much the idea appealed to some romantic side of her. Whatever they did together, she'd have to go back to her own bed by morning, and pretend like nothing ever happened. Else, Mariana would spoil the whole charade, and she didn't trust Mariana like she did Jude.

(Then again, the only person she trusted like she did Jude was currently holding her like she was a delicate leaf that would blow away in the wind, if he was to only loosen his grasp just a little.)

She wasn't normally such a risk-taker, but when he had her heart in his grasp - even if she hadn't admitted it out loud, not to him, not to anyone else, and barely even to herself, she still knew it to be true - it was hard to remember where her train of rational thought ended and her emotions and desires began.

She glanced up at him, flicking her gaze to meet his cautiously.  _Was that desire she saw in his eyes, or was it some trick of lighting?_  She pursed her lips together into a pout.

"What are you thinking about?" He tilted his head to match her pout.

"I - uh -" Damn him and his ability to magically short-circuit her brain without even trying. Damn that his pout looked so much better on him than it probably did on her. "You." It was simple, and more importantly, the truth.

He nodded and bent his head to hers, halting just in front of her lips. "I kind of figured that much," he said in a low whisper as he leaned in to kiss her. He pulled back. "Wasn't sure if there was something else on your mind." He kissed her again, and she pressed herself into his side.

"Like what?" How could there be anything else on her mind, when he was kissing her and making her feel all these feelings inside her? How could she even think about anything else?

"How much do you trust me?" His eyes were dark, and she couldn't tell it if it was the desire she thought she'd seen before or something that went much deeper than that.

"What? You  _know_  I trust you -"

"How much?"

"You  _know_  how much." It was ridiculous to her that he'd even have to question it. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because," he said, settling his hands on the side of her hips, his right thumb idly massaging tiny circles along the ridge above her pelvic bone, "I don't want to do the things I want to do with you, if you don't trust me enough to let me do them to you."

 _Oh_. "Oh." She remembered telling him about what had happened with Liam, and she thought that that almost had to be the process going through his head right now. "Because Liam, right?"

"Because I'm not going to be like him," he said. "If we're going to have -" he seemingly caught himself and shifted on the bed, moving his knee to brush against hers, "- _make love_  - I want it to be because  _you_  want it, and not just because I do."

She felt her eyes glisten with tears that threatened to come pouring out of her at any second. "I always thought, you know, that no guy would ever want me, that he had tainted me."

"That's not true."

"You do?" She looked up at him.

"Of course I do. You're beautiful, intelligent, loyal, loving, and so, so much more than that. You are not defined by what has happened to you. No matter what has been done, is done, or will be done to you in the future, I love you, Callie. And when you're ready, I will be too." He kissed her again, long and slow, and gently wiped his finger under her eyes. His finger sparkled in the lamp light with her tears.

She nodded and sunk her face into his shoulder, kissing the fabric of his t-shirt. "Thank you," she said, simply. Even if she thought she was ready tonight - which, she'd thought it had been a slight possibility - she knew that she wasn't in the sort of romantic mindset to even think about it. And she  _definitely_  didn't feel sexy.

(Not that she ever really  _had_ , but there were things she felt as though being with Brandon empowered her to do.)

(Feeling sexy: yeah, could potentially be one of those things. Not tonight, but potentially.)

"So you're willing to wait?" she asked. She knew about Talya, of course; she knew that he had to have urges that weren't being satisfied right now. And if he went back to Talya, he got someone without suitcases of former foster brother baggage. Or the label of current foster sister, for that matter.

"As long as you want. Promise." He scooped her into his arms and leaned her back against the bed, pressing his face into her neck as he pressed her into the blankets covering the mattress. She felt him leave a line of tiny little kisses leading from her jaw to her collarbone. She laughed and ran her fingers through his hair, and moved her foot up to rub against his calf. "Just tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable."

"I don't."

" _Callie_  -" His voice was almost like a warning, rumbling against her collarbone.

"Honestly, I don't." She stared at him through the hair that had fallen in her eyes. He looked a little different from this perspective, with little brunette hairs coloring her line of vision. "I'd let you know if I did. But you make me feel comfortable."

"I'm so glad." He left a warm, sloppy kiss against her collarbone, before he came back up to capture her lips in his. They lay there like that, kissing each other and saying unspoken words to each other through the course of their lips; she cupped his chin in her hands, and he tangled his leg around hers, drawing them closer together. "I'm so, so glad."

"I am too." She liked feeling like this, like she was worth something to someone, that she wasn't disposable. She gently ran her teeth along his bottom lip, and he swiped his tongue along the tops of her teeth. She looked at him, from beneath a heavily lidded gaze. He really was beautiful from this close of proximity.

She was unsure of how long they stayed like this, just the two of them holding each other, exchanging soft, warm kisses. It felt like it lasted all night; half of her expected to hear the first song of the morning songbirds at any moment. Yet, she knew that it had been far, far too short in reality. "I should probably go," she said, a hint of reluctance in her voice. She didn't really want to go, but she knew she had to.

"Yeah." Brandon seemed unconvinced, from his position laying against her chest. "I - you're right."

"I want to stay," she said.

"But you can't. I understand that." He didn't seem as though he was in any great rush to disentangle himself from her grasp, and it wasn't as though she was making any great strides toward trying herself. Finally, after a few moments, he propped himself up on one hand. "I understand. Go, then."

She leaned up and kissed him one last time, and then ducked out from beneath the tangle of limbs. "I wish I could stay."

"I wish you could too," he said. "But I'll be good." He drew her in for a final embrace, and she clung to him for dear life; he kissed the corner of her lips and smiled down at her. "Sweet dreams, Callie."

"You too," she said, as she crept out into the hallway and tiptoed back down to her and Mariana's room. She knew what her dreams would entail, and they would be more than sweet. Thanks to Brandon, at least.

- _to be continued_ -


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M-rated for smut.

She had thought about it a lot. Sex with Brandon had been something constantly at the forefront of her mind, after their little conversation.

She knew he would be nothing like Liam. She didn't even logically consider them to be remotely the same, by any stretch of the word. He would be gentle, take his time, make it good for both of them. Not just satisfying his own urges at the sacrifice of her own. That's not who he was.

She wanted him. Badly. And she knew.

"I'm ready," she whispered to him in passing one day, about a week after their conversation.

He choked on his orange juice. "You - you can't just  _say_  things like that," he said, in a hushed whisper between gritted teeth.

Mariana looked over at them from the other side of the room. "You two okay?" she asked, her tone light and teasing.

"Yeah," Brandon said, catching his breath, setting the glass down on the counter and placing the palm of his hand against his throat. "Just...went down the wrong pipe."

" _Sure_ , whatever you say," she said, turning back to her snack, with a loud crunch.

Brandon and Callie walked out of the kitchen, and he turned to her as soon as they were out of Mariana's earshot. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to -"

"I'm sure," she said, leaning up on her tiptoes to brush a quick kiss against his lips. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Meet me in my room later, then," he said. His eyes were wide, and there was no mistaking it for anything else this time. He  _wanted_  her. Maybe even  _needed_  her. Which was an exhilarating proposition.

She dropped back down to her regular height and smiled up at him. "Okay." She felt the corners of her lips tug into a slight smirk. "Okay," she repeated.

She walked away from him somewhat reluctantly. Everyone else was still awake, and he'd still want her just the same even when everyone else was in bed, fast asleep and unsuspecting. But she felt her hips sway a little bit, almost as if her body was trying to show him what was soon to come.

And she felt his eyes transfixed on her as she walked away.

Good. That was a positive sign for things to come.

* * *

"I'm ready," she repeated to herself as she sat on the side of her bed. She swung her legs off the side and bounced her ankles against the boxspring. She had put far too much thought into what was still a fairly limited wardrobe on her part to decide what he would be taking off her. Which of her clothes she wanted to see strewn across his bedroom floor.

She'd decided on simplicity: a teal tank top (probably Mariana's, come to think of it) and striped pajama bottoms. It had to look, to everyone else, like she was just going to be going to bed.

Her chosen outfit wasn't overtly sexy. She wasn't going to pass as a Victoria's Secret model tonight, or any night.

Then again, nothing about her tended to be that way, so at least she was consistent in the matter.

Not that Brandon seemed to  _care_...

* * *

"I'm ready," she repeated to him, in a hushed whisper after he opened the door to her knock. He was just wearing a plain white t-shirt and pajama pants, but somehow, it looked to her as if he was wearing the finest tuxedo to be found in all of San Diego.

His lips were on hers before she could say another word. The door closed, and he pinned her up against it. "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that to me," he said, kissing her over and over again. She hummed into the kisses, meshing her lips frantically against his, trying to soak in the feeling of kissing him. She tangled her fingers in his hair, feeling the silky softness under her fingertips. "Callie -"

"Yeah?"

He spun her around in his arms and laid her down on the bed. His eyes roamed up and down her body, and she had to bite her lip at his intense scrutiny. "Wearing Mariana's shirt?"

"I guess so."

He grasped the shirt between two fingers and toyed with the hem as he leaned over her and whispered into her ear, "you look  _so_  much better in it than she does."

"Brandon Foster, do you check out  _all_  of your foster sisters?" she asked, lightly mocking. She pulled him closer to her and smiled. It wasn't accusatory, and she hoped that he took it in the way she intended, or they would be having a much different discussion than planned tonight.

"Only the ones named Callie," he said, kissing her again and gazing into her eyes, as she moved herself up onto his pillow. "No others need apply."

She shuddered a little at the intensity of his gaze and allowed her smile to become even wider. "Good answer." They  _would_  be the ones to be perilously close to having sex, and yet teasing each other with smiles on their faces as they did so. She kissed him again, and lost herself in the slow, languid, passionate kisses that they shared.

"Are you ready?" he finally asked, and she could tell that there was a bit of a tonal shift - once they went down this road, everything would change between them. They wouldn't be able to go back from this, once it started - but maybe, in a way, it had started a long time before. Back in that kitchen, that night when they shared their first, tentative kiss. "If you aren't, I -"

"I'm ready," she repeated, interrupting him and inhaling tiny little anxious breaths as she took the hem of her shirt from his grasp and pulled it up over her head, revealing herself to him. She wiggled her arms out of the sleeve holes and cast it to the side, and then looked up at him. "You like?" she asked.

"I -  _Callie_ ," he said, taking his hand to cup the side of her breast, massaging it gently with the tip of his thumb. She had to bite back a moan and fight the temptation to blush. His hand felt so good there, and he was so reverent. So completely unlike anything she had ever felt before. He removed his hand and she felt her mouth contort into a pout. She didn't want the feeling to stop. And then he echoed the movement she had just made, pulling his shirt above his head, and throwing it off to wild abandon. She didn't dare look to see where it had fallen, not when he was shirtless and hovering above her. She couldn't avert her eyes for even a moment.

"C'm'ere," she said, embracing him, feeling his warm skin pressed against hers as she pulled him in for a searing kiss. "I could get used to seeing you like this," she said.

"And I you," he said, brushing his fingers along the side of her torso, tracing loops and swirls into her skin as he danced perilously closer to the waistband of her pants. She couldn't fight back the blush any longer, and she could feel her cheeks redden. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

She bit her lip and felt the blush deepen. "Brandon -"

"I'm serious. And seriously in love with you."

"Brandon -" She knew that she had never said it back to him. She knew that he had said that having her trust was enough for him, that it was almost like she loved him. But she wanted to clear up that little misconception, so she inhaled deeply and said, "I love you too, okay? I - I've never said to anyone. Except my parents and Jude and I don't love them the way I love you. Not at all."

It was almost like watching some unseen weight being lifted from his shoulders. "You love me," he said, echoing the words back to her. "You love me."

She nodded. "I think some part of me always has and was afraid to admit it."

He cascaded a shower of kisses upon her lips, her jaw, her neck, and she craned her neck upward to allow him further expanses of skin to further worship with his lips. "You don't know how good it feels to hear you say that to me," he said between kisses.

"I imagine it's pretty much how you made me feel."

"Fair point," he said, caressing her shoulder with one hand as he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the tiny foil packet sitting on top of it. Her eyes grew wide as she saw it in his hands. "You mean too much to me not to use this," he said. "I don't - a baby would be -"

"I understand," she said. "I don't have a burning desire to be on the next season of Teen Mom." She wasn't even sure if she wanted to have kids, and even if she did, she was only sixteen, and she didn't want to have a pregnancy scare because then Stef and Lena were sure to find out, and then she would end up in a situation similar to Lexi's... And that was a whole mess she wanted nothing to do with. Maybe, if they were older, and living out on their own - maybe then. But until then...

She took a deep breath and pushed her pants down her legs, feeling her underwear catch a little and go partway down with them. Maybe it wasn't a sexy striptease (as if), and maybe Brandon wasn't stripping the clothes off her, but at least she was maintaining some control of the situation. She nudged the underwear off and kicked it off the foot of the bed, and looked up at him again.

He gasped, and took off his pants as well, and they were both laying there with each other, stark naked and exposed in every way to each other. "Brandon, let me," she said, and with a nod, she took the condom packet from him and ripped it open. The condom fell out into her hand, and she cautiously took it and slid it over his tip. She let the condom slide down, and when she was satisfied with her work, she laid back and smiled up at him. "I'm ready." Her voice was confident and sure, and she knew what she wanted and when she wanted it. She wanted him, and she wanted him  _now_.

"Callie, Callie," he said, repeating her name as she spread her legs apart and he slid inside her. "Look at me, oh, Callie." Her eyes locked focus on him, never breaking her gaze. His eyes were full of warmth and love and comfort, and oh, it hurt a little, but he was so gentle. She rocked her hips against him, and he rocked back and forth against her.

"B-Brandon," she said, her words catching a little, as the tempo increased between them. She'd never felt like this before. So wanted, so loved, so desired, so everything that was right and positive in this crazy world. He made her feel all that, and so much more. "I - oh -" she leaned up and pulled him in for a warm, inviting kiss, her hand securely grasped around the back of his neck. She knew they had to be quiet. They couldn't rock the house tonight. So she allowed him to swallow her moans, as she swallowed his. It was hard to force herself to be quiet when she wanted to scream how good she felt from every rooftop in the city.

With a frantic moan, once again muffled by the course of her lips against him, he spiraled toward a release. And she felt her spirit soar as he locked his index finger with her as he did so, squeezing once as the release came. He still stayed above her as he slid out, gently sliding off the condom and tying it off before discarding it off to the side. "I'll deal with it in the morning," he said, kissing her as he lay down next to her, still holding onto her embrace.

"You were - that was -"

"You blew my mind," he said, kissing the side of her jaw and rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. "I - thank you, Callie."

" _I_  should be the one thanking  _you_. I've never felt like that before." She curled into him and looked up at him with all the emotions she felt in her soul expressed in her eyes. "Do I have to go?"

"If I had my way, you could stay all night. Forever."

"But Stef and Lena have their way." Her afterglow smile turned into a twisted frown, before she allowed his words to sink in.  _Forever_. Is that how he saw them turning out? Brandon and Callie forever? Forever was a long time. And a concept she had never allowed herself to dare to dream about before, but a lot of things had changed for her. For the better.

"Right, yeah," he said, almost as if the prospect of his mothers was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about at that moment, "you still don't have to leave right away. You can stay as long as you want."

 _Forever, if she wanted_. She curled into him with a sleepy smile. "I'll stay for a little bit longer," she said, nuzzling against him as she felt her eyes bat closed.

- _to be continued_ -


	8. head versus heart

The first light of morning was beginning to break overhead, and Callie stirred. This was not her bed, she could tell that for sure. The sheets were softer, she couldn't hear Mariana murmuring in her sleep, and perhaps most importantly, there was someone else in the bed. And she was stark naked. She flicked her eyes up. Her cheek rested against the planes of Brandon's chest, and she could see him fast asleep. His arm rested protectively around her back, drawing her closer to him.

Dueling thoughts crossed her mind. On one hand, she could get up, get dressed, dispose of the condom in the trash outside and get an early breakfast before Stef and Lena got up. On the other, she could stay curled up here with him until he woke up. The latter definitely appealed to her romantic side, but her functional, pragmatic side begged her to consider all the repercussions. All of her life – okay, all of the time she had been in foster care, which seemed like it had been longer than it actually was, maybe even a lifetime – she had allowed her brain to win out.

But now her heart was demanding to be heard. She'd told him that she loved him, and she knew that she was honest when she said it, although her honesty was driven by the hard edge of desire.

She turned her face so that her lips grazed the pucker of skin along his chest, and she planted a small kiss to the spot where they came to rest. He stirred only long enough to tighten his grasp around her, his hand rubbing the backs of her shoulder blades.

She breathed in deep. She knew she could spend forever here. He'd told her as much, she knew it to be fact, and yet, she couldn't help but wonder what would come next for them. There was no going back – not after she'd felt him inside her, his eyes wide and dilated as he looked into her eyes.

Everything had changed between them. And it was made harder by the fact that she couldn't just be open about their relationship, because that would be such a black mark against her, and it would ruin things for Jude, and she had promised Jude that this was the last stop for a while, if she had anything to say about it.

Not that she usually did, but that was beside the point.

After all, if she had her way, her parents would still be a daily fixture in her life, and maybe Brandon could be that shy guy that she ran into once and never forgot. But would she even appreciate what Brandon signified in that idealized world?

But they couldn't go back to how they used to be. That was set in motion the night of their first kiss in the kitchen – and the second, and all the kisses that had followed, and the beach, and sneaking around behind everyone's backs. It had all led them to this place, in this moment.

She knew that how she handled today would be the ultimate test of how they would adapt.

First things first, however. She strained back against his hand, and wormed her way out of his embrace. Not that she wanted to leave – furthest thing from it. But it was what was necessary, and he would understand, eventually. And she would be just downstairs, not halfway across the country.

She gathered her clothes from the floor, where they had been scattered the night before, and she quickly got dressed. She also grabbed the condom from where Brandon had placed it. Brushing her lips against Brandon's forehead, she whispered a faint "goodbye" before tiptoeing out of the room. She didn't sneak out fast enough to not notice the fact that Brandon whimpered and curled into the spot where she had laid only minutes before, almost as if he was seeking her out, even though she wasn't there.

She slipped downstairs and out the front door, feeling the cool dew of morning air tickling the tips of her toes. With a quick flourish, the condom was out of sight of anyone who could tell where it came from, she noted, as she cast a stray banana peel over it to disguise it from anyone peering into the can. As she walked back up the walkway to the house, the door to the house opened.

A bleary-eyed Stef stood in the doorframe, her hand clasping the edge of the frame while the other rested against her hip. "Hey, Callie, you're up early," she said.

"Yeah, uh, I just wanted to see the sun rise," Callie said. "It's supposed to be inspirational to those of us with a creative mindset, or so Brandon has told me."

"Tell that to me again when he actually wakes up before nine on a Saturday morning," Stef said, with a laugh. "C'mon inside, I'll make you breakfast." She scooped up the newspaper in her hands and offered Callie a genuine smile. "I may have made waffle batter last night."

"Sounds delicious," Callie said, giving her a smile in return. "I'll be right there, okay?"

"Okay." Stef retreated into the house, and Callie looked up at the sky. It was reassuring to see that the sun still rose, and Stef couldn't seem to tell that anything had changed. So she would tentatively call this a win.

As she walked back into the house, she heard footsteps skitter across the floor above her. "And that would be Lena," Stef said, coming out into the hallway, rubber spatula in hand. "I called up and told her that we were making waffles, and did she want to join us?"

"And she said yes!" Lena called out from upstairs. "Be right there, you two."

Callie sat down at the counter and fiddled with the fork that sat next to her plate. "So, uh, you going into work? I'm not used to being up before you."

"Yeah," Stef said, shaking her head. "Sadly, crime doesn't wait for anyone in this city, nor does the paperwork for my boss. Not even on a Sunday."

"I would much rather have her here with me," Lena said as she walked into the kitchen, walking over to Stef and kissing the side of her cheek. "You know, when we were first in love, I would sometimes drive Stef to work on these early mornings, just so we'd have that extra time together."

"And why don't you do that anymore?" Stef asked, as she pried the waffle off the waffle iron and flipped it onto Callie's plate. "I miss that."

"Because...actually, I don't know why I stopped," Lena said. "I guess we got so used to spending so much time together that it didn't seem like a necessity anymore."

Stef pulled Lena in for a kiss. "I would be honored if you would drive me to work today," she said. "Like we used to."

"Oh, really?" Lena asked, kissing Stef back, her lip catching on Stef's. "That would be an honor in itself."

"Then it's settled," Stef said, opening the refrigerator and pulling out two bottles of syrup. "And Callie, you have the choice between strawberry or maple syrup for your waffle."

Callie took the bottle of strawberry and squirted it on her waffle, and as she began to cut her waffle into tiny triangular shapes, she watched Stef and Lena's interactions. They were so at ease with each other, so clearly in love. Even after all these years of apparently being together. She speared one of the triangles and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Could this be a peek into a possible future with her and Brandon? Early morning waffles with their kid, light banter at the ready, love sparking between all of them.

It sounded a little too Leave it to Beaver for what she was used to, but then again, she was the first to admit that her life had clearly sucked the last few years, and that was an understatement.

"The waffle was really good, thanks," she said, as she stood up and put her plate in the sink. "Have a good day at work, Stef, I'm," she paused for a brief moment. A part of her wanted to go upstairs and curl back into bed with Brandon, especially if the moms were going to be gone, but the pragmatic part of her wanted to do something practical. Maybe work on homework, or try to sleep in her own bed. Or something. "I'm going to go upstairs and do things."

"Sounds good," Stef said, waving her hand. "Go. Fly like the wind, Callie."

Callie walked out of the room, still wavering on the decision she was to make. As she walked away, Lena turned to Stef. "Did you notice that her shirt was on inside out?" she asked, one eyebrow arched in a perfect crescent.

"Yeah," Stef said. "It's probably nothing." She drank down the last of her coffee and turned to Lena. "C'mon, let's go. If we hurry now, maybe I can convince my boss that traffic was bad on the way in..."

* * *

Callie stood at the top of the stairs and bit her lip. It was another dilemma of heart versus brain. Heart meant Brandon, brain meant Jude, and there wasn't a scenario in which she could reconcile the two to be the same. She'd allowed herself to be selfish and seek her own desire for one night, but now, she needed to do some thinking.

She cautiously turned the knob to her own bedroom and slipped inside. Mariana still snuffled softly in her sleep, which was a relief – she didn't want to have to make up explanations that she knew Mariana would never fully buy. She threw the blankets over her head, and burrowed deep inside the covers, burying herself away to allow herself to think.

She had always been so focused on Jude and doing right by Jude that she never gave a second thought to herself. If there was a bullet flying toward Jude, she would dive in front of it, no questions asked. For so long, he had been the only person she'd allowed herself to love.

And then there was Brandon. She laughed under her breath, but he was almost like her savior, trying to save her from someone. Herself? She almost envisioned him as a Prince Charming on a white horse, gallantly going after the princess in the tower. But she wasn't a princess, by any stretch of the word, and girls like her didn't get the prince or the happily ever after. They got what was acceptable – sometimes, not even that much – and they learned to live with it, whether it was what they really wanted or not.

She wanted Brandon. And they'd done a good job over the past few months, at least she thought so, of disguising the true nature of their relationship from everyone but Jude.

And there he was again, Jude. To strike the balance between her two guys would be to find peace in the Middle East, and for that, she deserved the Nobel Peace Prize. She feared that having one meant that she'd lose the other, even though she knew that neither of them saw it that way – well, maybe Jude did, but he was jaded in similar tones to her own. They'd never really talked about it, not since the day he'd caught them together. Brandon would never make her give up Jude, not at all, and she knew that, and that was another thing that she loved about him. He understood how important Jude was to her, and would never do anything to diminish that.

She felt a gentle tingling between her legs, and she knew that the feelings from the night before were about to cascade over her in waves. She knew what she had to do.

In quick, almost cat-like movements, she moved with agility across the floor and tiptoed back down the hall to Brandon's room. She got back into bed with him, and placed his arm over her waist.

"You're back," he whispered, brushing his lips against the nape of her neck. "And dressed."

"Yeah," she said. "I – I woke up early, and you were still asleep, and I had breakfast with the moms. She made waffles."

"I missed waffles?" he asked, his lips turning down into a pout as they opened and closed against her skin in soft, measured strokes.

"There's still some downstairs if you want to get one," she said, easing into his embrace.

"Are you asking me to make a decision between having you in my bed and having waffles for breakfast?" he asked, his tone light and airy, before taking a nosedive into something more serious, "Because you know that I'll always pick you."

"I know."

And that was what made everything so much harder to handle.

- _to be continued_ -

 


End file.
